Socks
by Prospero's Pal
Summary: Single chapter prequel to Friends and Family. Marshall seeks out Dash X to warn him of possible danger.


Marshall Teller looked around for Simon but he was nowhere to be found. He thought it over and decided to go on this mission alone. His friend had agreed to meet him at the wooded lot 20 minutes ago but the younger boy was plainly scared and probably chickened out. Marshall walked his bike over to a pine tree and extended the kick stand. The bike promptly fell over as the stand dug into the soft soil and collapsed. Marshall picked it up and leaned it against the tree. The shack he was looking for was only about 50 feet away but you couldn't see it until you were almost on top of it. The current occupant liked his privacy and he had done an excellent job in camouflaging his home.

Marshall slowly made his way into the dense vegetation and was beginning to think he might be lost when he saw the shack. It had been built back in the 1950's by a crazy old man, a real-life hermit who hated people and noise and civilization. He had disappeared sometime ago and his run-down abode sat empty until it was discovered by the mysterious Dash X. Marshall made his way to the side and peeked inside through one of the giant cracks in the wall. The tiny single-room house was empty.

"Stick 'em up!" Marshall literally jumped straight up into the air at the words. His heart pounded as he whirled around and saw the smiling face of the always laughing, always intense, and always unpredictable, Dash.

"Oh, jeez! Uh, you really startled me!" Marshall put his hand over his heart; he could feel it beating like mad.

"So what brings you by, Teller? You casing the place? You gonna rob me?" Dash stopped smiling and looked a little mad. "Or maybe you decided to take up the Peeing Tom business. Were you hoping to catch a glimpse of me in my undies?" His broad smile reappeared as he patted the other boy on the back and invited him inside.

Marshall was a little shocked at the living conditions. The floor was plain dirt; the ceiling had about a thousand holes and looked like it could fall down any second. There was no furniture of any kind, only a couple of wooden crates, some cardboard boxes and a sleeping bag rolled up and tucked into a corner. The walls were as bad as the ceiling, filled with holes and cracks. It was amazing a strong gust of wind hadn't knocked the whole thing over by now.

Dash pulled the crates into the middle of the room and sat on one, gesturing for Marshall to sit on the other. The two boys sat face to face, about 2 feet apart. Dash grinned; he could tell his guest was nervous. "Is this a social call, Teller, or are you on one of your boy detective missions?" Dash's piercing eyes stared intently at Marshall.

"Social call, I guess. I wanted to check this place out for myself and see how you were doing. Nobody's seen you around for a few days. I thought maybe you were sick or hurt or something." Marshall tried his best to sound sincere but Dash wasn't buying it.

"Cut the act, buddy. If you really thought I was sick or hurt or even dead you would be dancing a jig. Now, why are you really here?" Dash shot Mars his creepiest smile.

"God, that's an awful thing to say, man. I really was worried about you! And … and … " Marshall paused, choosing his next words very carefully. He never knew what could set Dash off.

"Go, on, and?"

"I came to warn you. A couple of guys wearing cheesy suits have been asking questions, they even came by our house and talked to my folks, wanted to know if they had seen a boy with grey hair and weird marks on his hands. I think they might be cops, or worse."

"Or worse?" Dash was intrigued.

"Yeah, you know like hit men, or aliens, or alien hit men, or kidnappers from another universe, maybe gangsters or weirdoes who like kids with grey hair, maybe they want to put you in a zoo on their home planet in a different dimension and … " Marshall stopped talking because Dash was laughing so hard. He was doubled over and gasping for air.

"Teller, I love it when you get worked up about something, you're absolutely hilarious! Alien hit men from an inter-dimensional zoo!" Dash finally got control of himself and his laughter died down to a case of the giggles. "I'm sorry, man, go on with your story."

"Ok, so maybe I got a little carried away but even if they are nice guys, I sort of get the feeling you don't exactly want to be found." Marshall looked annoyed and a little hurt, he really did only have good intentions. Dash thought about the information and processed it. He decided to give his guest the benefit of the doubt.

"Thanks." Dash nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe I should lay low for a while longer. You never know, they could be bill collectors from Neptune! No, wait, Jehovah's Witnesses from Uranus!" He pronounced it _your anus_ and erupted into a fresh bout of laughter.

"Oh go fuck yourself!" Marshall stood and angrily walked to the door. "Somebody tries to help you and you just make it a big joke! Some people actually want to be your friend, you know, and you just treat them like shit! Goodbye!"

Dash grabbed the taller boy by the shoulder and stopped him from leaving. Marshall spun around and took a swing at him, just missing contact with his chin. Dash laughed as he ducked the punch. "Hey look, I'm sorry, but I _am_ sort of lacking any kind of social skills, you must have noticed that. I appreciate the info, I know you and your red headed minion are complete boy scouts and just want to help people, even me."

Marshall sat back down. "Simon! His name is Simon! I don't like you calling him names all the time. He's not a minion, whatever that is!"

"It's nothing bad, it just means junior partner, like a devotee, a follower." Dash was shocked by Marshall's outburst and for once he wasn't smiling, in fact he looked a little sad. "Where is he anyway? You two are always together."

"Dunno, he was supposed to be here but he never showed up, he's sort of scared of you and ..." Marshall looked embarrassed. " and ... I'm sorry I swore and took a swing at you."

"Dude. It's ok, I'm just surprised you even know words like that, and you used them correctly, I might add. You're not the first person to suggest what I should do with my male appendage, which technically speaking isn't quite long enough to perform the particular act you requested."

Marshall looked confused, and then turned red as the meaning of Dash's words became clear. Both boys laughed.

"Look, I brought you something." Marshall rummaged around in his overly large army-style jacket and pulled out a plastic bag. He tossed it to Dash who caught it in mid-air and looked inside. He looked up and then back down into the bag again, completely puzzled.

"Socks? You brought me a pair of socks?" Dash looked stunned.

"Not just socks, _real_ _wool_ _socks_, good ones, super thick. You said once your feet are always cold, even when it's warm out. My mom bought me a pair of these last winter, they're insane! Like the warmest most comfy things ever!" Marshall was afraid Dash would laugh at him but persisted. "I know what's it's like, having cold feet I mean, it really sucks! I can't do anything about most of your problems but I can at least try and fix this one. I know you must think I'm a total idiot but anyway, um, happy birthday man, whenever that is, I hope they help keep you warm."

Dash took the socks out of the bag, inspecting them. They were very soft and thick, hand stitched, and no doubt they were pretty expensive. Dash thought Marshall must have spent a good chunk of his paper route money on them. "You remembered some random comment I made about cold feet and you went out and bought me these? You bought me a present?" Dash looked down at the socks and mumbled. "I don't think I ever got a present before." Dash didn't laugh. In fact Marshall was shocked to see him wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his ratty old black coat and sniff. The great and powerful Dash X was crying. The mysterious, notoriously smart-mouthed punk who lived by his wits was actually crying, and over a pair of socks! Maybe he really was human after all.

"Thank you, Teller. Um, Marshall, Mars. Thank you, Mars." Dash dried his eyes again, he was clearly choked up by the present.

"Go ahead, put them on, you won't believe how crazy comfy they are!"

Dash pulled off his grungy black boots and Marshall was surprised to see that he wasn't wearing any socks at all. His thin bare feet were even whiter than his face and they really did look cold. He was sure that if he touched them they would feel like ice cubes. The weird boy with the grey hair eagerly pulled on the wool socks. He didn't even bother putting his boots back on, he jumped up and walked, then danced around the room, he felt like he was floating on clouds.

"These are the best damn things ever! They're insane! It's like sticking my feet inside a sheep! They're actually warm for the first time in, um, forever!" Dash grinned from ear to ear. Marshall stood, pleased that his gift was a hit.

"I know! Didn't I say they were mad comfy?"

Dash didn't answer; instead he grabbed Marshall by the shoulders and then hugged him, holding him tight for several seconds. This time, it was Marshall who choked up, he felt so sorry for Dash, he had no friends, no home, no family, no identity, not even a real name, and a stupid pair of socks made him cry. The weird boy with the grey hair and strange marks on his hands was just a lonely kid, a kid Marshall vowed to be kinder to in the future. It was the beginning of a friendship that would be epic. It would be talked about by future generations on two different planets and would inspire a thousand legends and stories. Dash X was on the verge of discovering his true identity, and when he did, it would forever change the life of Marshall Teller.


End file.
